Spirit
by The DayDreaming
Summary: drabble/companion to 'Let Go' /xXx/ Ivan finds his second chance in the form of a Voiceless Neophyte, and learns that children are much harder to deal with than they appear. RussiaxAmerica


**Title**: Spirit

**Author**: The DayDreaming

**Ratings/Warnings**: Rated G…for GRUNIONS! AU, with a lot of abstract terms. As long as you guys have dictionaries, you should be fine. :) Possibly offensive use of religious terms, with no ill-intent meant. It's just a story, and I don't mean to offend anyone. Don't take it personally.

**Summary**: [drabble] [companion to 'Let Go'] Ivan finds his second chance in the form of a Voiceless Neophyte, and learns that children are much harder to deal with than they appear.

**A/N**: This is a companion piece to "Let Go," and as such, you may or may not get what's going on in this piece without first reading its predecessor.

AS A REFERENCE: Ivan and Alfred are children. Ivan is about the size of an 8 or 9 year-old, while Alfred looks around 4.

**0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0**

It's a curious creature; tiny, with large, luminous blue eyes and an errant cowlick so protrusive, it is an almost impossible task to hold back from tugging on it. Robed in the gray uniform of the Neophytes, and sheathed in a bone-white cape, it resembles a dandelion more than a Fledgling.

"What is it?" Ivan asks, taking in the peculiar sight. He's never seen such a ruffled-looking Neophyte, with hair all askew and lips set in a watery frown. The rabbit peering curiously from behind the Fledgling's legs is also a curiosity. No animals besides Familiars are allowed in Sanctuary, and he's never before seen such a weak companion.

**"This will be your new Adjunct, Ivan."**

Ivan furrows his brows, confused, "I do not understand."

**"A partner for you. It does not have a name. It has not yet found its Voice to tell us. But you shall be the one to help it find it."**

The Neophyte whimpers, turning to the archangel behind it and opening and closing its mouth, as if speaking. No sound is emitted, of course, just as Ivan suspects. A Voiceless Neophyte. Not so uncommon.

Ivan steps forward, scarf fluttering behind him and trailing on the ground. He's yet to master Floating, an unfortunate circumstance, but unavoidable for the fact that he is too young to be given the Teachings. He's only barely a few ranks above the Neophyte before him, after all.

"Why me, sire? I am not an Apprentice, nor an Acolyte," he says, kneeling down to tug at the cowlick he's been eyeing since first seeing the Fledgling.

**"You've proven before to have problems working with others, young Ivan. That is why you lost your last Consort, and your Apprentice rank."**

Ivan glances up at the archangel, eyes guardedly imploring the low-rank angel.

**"Hm. I can see why. Haughtiness shall get you nowhere, young Trainee. In order to help you progress along your training, the higher-ups have tasked you with taking care of and teaching this Neophyte. Once it learns how to use its Voice, we shall evaluate your performance and determine whether or not you may advance forward in the ranks again."**

Ivan stares down at the Fledgling in front of him. Tiny. Waifish. Immature. It has taken to ignoring the archangel and him altogether, and is instead lifting its rabbit and pretending to make it tap-dance. The rabbit in turn is trying its best follow along with the steps.

**"Any more questions, Ivan?"**

The archangel's voice is snide, almost derisive. It isn't uncommon for Angels and all of their ascending ranks to look down upon the younger Fledglings, as young and weak as they are. When Ivan had been relocated to the Sanctuary, it had come as shock to see such disrespect towards fellow comrades. But, Sanctuary is infinitely different from the Rimestone regions. Ivan is unable to complain, for fear of being returned to his first Fledgling stages.

But Ivan isn't perturbed by the archangel, and instead voices his greatest concern, "Why it? What is so special about this Neophyte?"

**"It was not born within the borders of any Holy Land. In fact, it was found wandering the plains, in a particular spot whose barriers between the mystic and supernatural worlds had weakened significantly, and was almost non-existent."**

Ivan takes in the Fledgling with a new light, eyeing the thin arms and legs and luminous eyes, so intensely blue as to mimic the sky, "Will it even survive until the next season?"

**"That will be up to you, Ivan. Do not fail. A life hangs in the balance."**

The humor in the archangel's voice is implied, even as the monotone words are voiced.

**"It already has a Familiar, as you can see. We do not know how it gained such a…pitiful protector, but we assume that it grew fond of the Fledgling and made the contract itself once danger became present. It's irreversible, though, so the rabbit must stay. It will help you, though. Its bond with the Fledgling is a bridge you can use to build relations."**

Ivan nods, taking the information in. It's almost overwhelming, the thought that his future lies in the hands of a scrawny Fledgling. But he's sure he can succeed. As long as things don't turn out as poorly as with his Consort, everything will be fine.

During his reverie, the archangel has left, and the Neophyte has returned his attention to Ivan. It stares up at him, glowing eyes questioning while its fingers fidget quietly with the knot of its cloak. He can't quite stop the curl of his lips as he once again surveys the odd little angelite. What is he supposed to do?

"Ah…hello, comrade?" he tries, sticking his hand out and waving the appendage at his counterpart. Before he can retract it, the Adjunct manages to grasp his hand and shake it vigorously. The weak grip is almost disheartening, but the spark in the other's eyes is enough to spur Ivan into smiling.

Spirit. It has spirit. He tightens his grip, and in return he can feel the tiny digits wrapped around his larger fingers squeeze the tiniest bit harder.

"My name is Ivan," he says, and at the other's nod, releases his hold. "We will be together now, you and I, comrade. I will teach you everything you need to learn. We will find your Voice, and then I shall become a Trainee, and you shall go on to join the other Neophytes."

The Fledgling frowns at this, moving forward and trying to grasp Ivan's hand again. Before the child can, Ivan steps aside, his Adjunct chasing him like a shadow.

"What are you doing, little one?" he asks, panicked as the neophyte makes another grab for his arm. "No! Stop!"

The fledgling ignores him, toddling after its superior's light run. Its rabbit companion hops beside it, bouncing high in its excitement. Ivan moves a bit faster as he observes the other slowing down, out of breath. Fledglings of its size and age truly are the weakest of their Kind. He crests a hill and glances back, only to see that his stalker has stopped, hiding its face in its arms, a high, keening wail falling from its lips.

He almost keeps going, wanting to leave the nuisance behind, but a tiny, nagging sensation in his chest urges him to turn back. As he approaches, he notices the slick, fat trails of tears sliding down the Adjunct's face. Is crying bad? Ivan can remember his Consort, and how he'd always cry whenever Ivan came near him. He's never experienced anyone crying from being _away_ from him…

Once he's close enough, the fledgling looks up, blotchy face breaking out into a smile. Without preamble it launches itself at Ivan, gripping around his waist and searching for his hands again.

Surprised, Ivan can't keep himself from shoving the child off of him, causing the angelite to tumble to the ground half-way down the hill. This time, its wails are even more piercing. The Familiar bounces around it in a panic, tentatively nudging its snout at the fledgling's cheek, then skipping back to push at the child's sides to encourage it to get up.

Ivan can only stare at the writhing form at the bottom of the hill, unsure of what to do.

This might be harder than he initially thought.

**0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0**

**NOTES!**:

Alright guys. I know there are a lot of terms, but I think most of them are self-explanatory. A lot of the fun, I think, of AU's, is learning the lingo as you go along.

Buuut, that said, I will give you guys a bit of an outline of the ranking system. I know that a lot of the words are just synonyms of each other, but they do have an order in my story.

**Fledglings and Neophytes**: the same things, basically, as they are both 'new' angels, though Fledgling is a term that encompasses all angelites (child angels). Neophytes signify the lowest rank, also child angels. The gender of a fledgling cannot be discerned until it gains its Voice, whereupon it can tell its superiors its name.

**Trainee**: a higher level for child angels. Trainees are tutored in the basic knowledge of angels. Sometimes they are assigned Consorts (partners, different from Adjuncts, whom are subservient).

**Apprentice**: level after Trainee. They are apprenticed to older Angels or experienced Angelites. Those who are considered extremely gifted are apprenticed to the very best Angels (those high in rank).

**Acolyte**: final level for child angels. A job meant to monitor the Fledgling's talents, and then assign an appropriate duty until the child becomes proficient and old enough to move on to becoming an official Angel, and taking his or her place in the hierarchy.

**0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0**

There. That should do it. In the mood to write after completing writing "In Water," I felt like getting the creep vibes off of me by giving you all general fluff! Sorta! With added child abuse! Anyways, I think I have another one of these in me, if you guys are interested in learning how our 'mysterious' Fledgling earns his voice. I'll start writing it when I wake up from fainting from exhaustion.

As an added bonus, here. Have some art. It's posted at the bottom of my livejournal page, and yes, I drew it myself:

http:/ / eram-quod-es .livejournal .com /5060 .html#cutid1

There's also a bit of information under the 3 pictures, so please read if you're interested in learning a bit more about this AU setting.


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